Cold As You
by butterflied4life
Summary: My take on a song/karaoke fic using the song ‘Cold as You’ by Taylor Swift. Somewhat angsty, but a satisfying ending, I promise! Grissom/Sara
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Cold as You, Part 1

**Author**: butterflied4life

**Rating**: Teen

**Pairing**: GSR Grissom/Sara, a tiny bit of Grissom/Catherine friendship

**Spoilers**: There really aren't any in this part. This story takes place around Season 4 and 5.

**Summary**: My take on a song/karaoke fic using the song 'Cold as You' by Taylor Swift. Somewhat angsty, but a satisfying ending, I promise!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CSI, or any of its characters. If that happens in the near future, I will let you know so we can celebrate! I also do not own the song 'Cold as You', or Taylor Swift for that matter. All I own is her CD.

**A/N**: Well, let's see. This is my first story. I would really appreciate any and all comments, nice or not. I really want to see what people think of my story, so I know if it's worth continuing. 'Cold as You' is a really good song by Taylor Swift, and LieLieS over at YouTube was amazing enough to make me my very own GSR video to this song. Go ahead and check it out! Much thanks to Keegan Elizabeth, my fabulous beta who took the time, despite writing her own genius stories, to go over mine and offer suggestions, encouragement, and that final push to finish it. I wouldn't have dared to post this without her. She has an AMAZING story, 'Memories, a Wedding Ring, and Love Along the Way', which I highly recommend. And now for the story…

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Friday night at The Crescent Moon Bar meant one thing to Vegas locals: Karaoke Night and cheap drinks. The whole gang, including Greg, was sitting at a circular table in the bar and ordering their first round of drinks. Due to an elusive serial killer, everyone had been forced to work a double shift, and alcohol was just the thing needed to relax and to unwind. There was no way they could sleep for at least a couple of hours, since the adrenaline was still running full force through their bodies. In the end, they had caught the guy, but the victory did little to combat the mixture of exhaustion, frustration, and determination that they had built up.

Their seating arrangements told a lot about the current state of relationships between the workers of the nightshift. Catherine was seated between Nick and Warrick, but sometime during the first hour her chair had scooted closer to Warrick's side than Nick's. Sara was beside Nick, and by some means, Greg had wheedled his way into snagging the chair on her other side. Grissom, always aloof, was theoretically between Greg (to Grissom's dismay) and Warrick, but he had managed to push his chair back in such a way that he didn't really seem to be sitting by anyone.

The drinks arrived, and everyone obligingly downed theirs within a few gulps, raising empty glasses to signal the waitress for more. Sara, especially, was drinking hard. Her rejection by Grissom lately and the last case were just too much to handle at one time, so she sought release in the bottom of bottle.

Sara surprised herself when she got up and made her way over to the DJ's table. It was very unlike her to perform in front of others: that was Catherine's area of expertise. She also didn't consider herself as having much talent in the way of singing. But the three beers she'd swigged down earlier were starting to affect her, and she was feeling a whole lot more daring and bitter. She stood in line for karaoke behind a bouncy teenager with straight blonde hair, who looked absolutely thrilled to be in a bar in the first place.

Sara glanced over at the group's table, where it seemed that no one had found the fact she was gone strange. If they had noticed, then they had probably figured she had gone to the bathroom. As Sara watched them talking and laughing, Catherine finally noticed that she was standing in line for karaoke and alerted the others. She along with Nick and Warrick had encouraging smiles for her while Greg gave her a thumbs-up and Grissom wore a look of confusion.

_Who cares what the hell he thinks. He'd disapprove if I won the Nobel Peace Prize. _Sara was feeling especially resentful towards Grissom tonight.

When Sara turned her attention back to where she was standing, the blonde teenager started to sing and dance to a sultry Beyoncé song totally unsuited to her. Since Sara was next in line, the DJ asked her for the name of the song she wanted to sing. She gave it to him after reconsidering a bit. It was a country song, which was something she would never listened to normally but Nick had given her Taylor Swift's debut album for her birthday. The CD hadn't been too bad, and there was one song she had really identified with. It was perfect for how she was currently feeling.

The blonde's song mercifully came to an end, and the normally fearless CSI swallowed hard a few times. Gathering up her courage, she briskly stepped in front of the microphone, completely unaware of the pretty picture she made: tall, long legs encased in black slacks, a baby-blue blouse, dark hair starting to curl wildly in the humidity of the bar. She didn't have any time to really ponder that she was about to perform for the first time in front of about a hundred people, including some of her friends, since the opening piano notes had started to play. Her lovely voice rang out across the bar that had, to her utter dismay, become quiet as they listened.

_You have a way of coming easily to me. _

_And when you take you take the very best of me. _

_So I start a fight 'cause I need to feel something. _

_You do what you want 'cause I'm not what you wanted. _

While she sang, Sara looked straight at Grissom, building up both her strength and resolve as she stared into the eyes that had refused to let her in time after time.

_Oh, what a shame. _

_What a rainy ending given to a perfect day. _

_Just walk away, no use to fit in words that you will never say. _

_And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through, I've never been anywhere cold as you._

Grissom visibly flinched at the last few words, and Catherine noticed. Everyone in the bar knew whom Sara was singing to since she had locked eyes with him the very moment she began to sing. However, only Catherine knew how truly complicated their 'relationship' was. Grissom had become cold, distant, and distracted lately. His troubles with Sara had begun taking a toll on him, whether Sara recognized it or not. Only Catherine understood how conflicted Grissom felt about getting involved with a younger woman and a subordinate to boot. "That still doesn't mean he had to push her away to such extremes. Maybe this experience will help him realize how silly his actions are," Catherine thought to herself. Her eyes reverted back to the stage as Sara started singing the next stanza:

_You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray. _

_And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. _

_And you come away with a great little story of a mess of dreamer with the nerve to adore you._

A solitary tear rolled down Sara's cheek, and she wiped it away angrily, never breaking eye contact with Grissom. She had wanted to come across hard and unforgiving, but here she was crying in public, which was completely unlike her. She didn't display her emotions.In her mind, she berated herself, "Great, crying looks really angry, Sidle. Too late now, just keep going."

_Oh, what a shame. _

_What a rainy ending given to a perfect day. _

_Just walk away, no use to fit in words that you will never say. _

_And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through, I've never been anywhere cold as you._

Taking a deep breath, she plunged into the third and final stanza of the song.

_You never did give a damn thing, honey. _

_But I cried, cried for you. _

_And I know you wouldn't have told nobody if I died, died for you, died for you._

Sara was really crying now, tears were pouring out as the pent-up emotions burst forth. She almost felt like quitting then but decided that she was no coward and she sang the refrain one last time.

Grissom felt as if he couldn't breathe. Of all the songs Sara could have picked to sing, she chose one that made him out to be the White Witch and the Tin Man combined. He hadn't meant to hurt her. He had never wanted that for them. That was why he had first rejected her offer of dinner: he didn't want her to wake up one day and discover she was dating (or even married, if he dared to hope) an old man, while she was still young. With this song, however, he realized how much pain he had caused her, how much she had suffered at his hand. And he felt like crying too.

_Oh, what a shame._

_What a rainy ending given to a perfect day. Every smile you fake is so condescending. _

_Counting all the scars you made. _

_Now that I'm sitting here thinking it through, I've never been anywhere cold as you._

As soon as the song ended, Sara had broken her stare at Grissom, and she didn't dare to glance back to him before she ran towards the back of the bar, heading for the bathroom, the door, anywhere—she just needed to get out.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Cold as You, part 2

**Title: **Cold as You, part 2

**Author: **butterflied4life

**Rating: **Teen

**Pairing: **Grissom and Sara, of course

**Spoilers: **A reference to Play with Fire. Also, Grissom's house is the one off of Strip Strangler, if that helps anyone's visualization.

**Summary: **My take on a song/karaoke fic using the song 'Cold as You' by Taylor Swift. Somewhat angsty, but a satisfying ending, I promise!

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I wish I owned CSI…

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**A/N: **Well, here's the second part to the story. I promised a satisfying ending, so here it is. Again, thanks to Keegan, my beta. I got quite distracted with other story lines while writing this, much to my embarrassment. Without her constant support and suggestions it would have been a lot longer before this was posted.

**A/N 2: **Many thanks to all the people who wrote reviews for the first part of this story. You guys were so kind and supportive, and even had a couple of suggestions. Thanks so much!

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As soon as Sara bolted from the stage, Grissom shoved his chair back and started after her. The others at the table carefully averted their eyes, not wanting to get involved in the emotional mess that would surely ensue. Even Catherine, who was usually so willingly involved in everyone else's business, didn't care to witness the verbal battle.

Grissom, also avoiding everyone's eyes, barreled out of the entrance to the bar, and consequently ran into his quarry, who had stopped right outside the door to try to quit crying. Sara immediately turned her head to see who had run into her. As soon as she recognized Grissom, she bent over and started throwing up four bottles worth of Bud Light into a potted plant.

Grissom stood there watching helplessly, not sure what to do, until she finally stopped retching. Spitting a couple times to rid her mouth of the taste, she straightened and whirled around to glare at Grissom.

"What the fuck do you want?" she demanded.

"I want to talk," came his patient reply.

Sara snorted mirthlessly, pointing back towards the bar. "I think I just said all that I have to say in there."

Grissom pondered this a moment and then asked, "Am I really that . . . cold . . . to you?"

"You have no idea."

"I know I refused your offer of dinner, but what else—"

"Do really you want me to recite the list of grievances? 'I hold these truths to be self-evident' and all that? You know what, I'm not going to do this. I am NOT baring my soul to you just to watch while you recede back into yourself so far you can't see the light of day. Because that's what happens every time. When our relationship takes a tiny step forward, you start _running _backwards."

"I'm a very private person by nature. I don't tend to talk about myself."

"And I do? Me? 'Miss Close-Mouthed' of the entire lab? No one here even knows where I grew up.

"In a relationship, when one person gives the other person is supposed to give back. I give and give and give, and I never receive anything in return. I can't live this way. I don't have anything left to give. So fuck off." Sara turned and started back into the bar, but Grissom's hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to glare at him.

"Please, Sara. I want to change this. I don't want to keep fighting with you. Can we please talk?"

"Talk then," she snapped. She was just so tired of everything.

"I would prefer not to bare my soul in front of a bar. Can we go somewhere else? My place?" he suggested.

In reply to Grissom's question, Sara folded her arms and started stalking towards his Tahoe. Grissom sighed (whether it was a sigh of relief or of exasperation he really wasn't sure), and followed her. If she wanted him to drive, then he would drive. Before he reached the SUV, however, he remembered the rest of the night shift inside.

"Do you need to get your purse?" he called to Sara, who was already at the vehicle. She shook her head no, patting her pocket.

Grissom nodded to signal he understood, then turned and re-entered the bar. "Sara and I are leaving now," he told Catherine, whom Sara had come with.

Catherine raised her eyebrows.

"Catherine, I can't do this right now. I'll see you later." Grissom didn't wait long enough to see Catherine's reaction before he left.

Grissom and Sara rode to Grissom's townhouse in silence, both staring straight ahead. After Grissom had parked in his driveway and turned the vehicle off, he got out and went around to open Sara's door. She allowed him to open it, but she ignored his proffered hand.

Grissom unlocked the front door of his townhouse and ushered her in. She settled down on the couch while he got two glasses of water. As he started back into the living room, he noticed that Sara was sitting with her arms folded and her head bowed. As he approached she looked up, anguish in her face.

"I am so sorry," she whispered. He quickly crossed the room and sat down beside her, leaving the glasses of water forgotten on the kitchen counter. Sara stared straight ahead, fixated on something Grissom could not see.

A few moments after he had sat down, she started speaking again. "I am so, so selfish. We had a relationship. We were friends, even good friends. Then –then I allowed myself to fall in love with you, and everything changed. I wasn't content with friendship." She looked down at the floor between her feet. "It's all my fault." A sob rose in her throat, as the tears started to fall.

Grissom, not even hesitating, pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. He held her while she cried for the second time that night, gently stroking her arm and whispering tender words of comfort. "Shh, it's alright. It's not your fault. You don't have to be sorry for this. I do. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said. Again he repeated, " I'm so sorry…"

After her shoulders stopped shaking and she calmed, he pulled her away from him so that he could look into her eyes.

"I have discovered three things tonight, Sara. Number one: you have a lovely voice. Number two: I am a son-of-a-bitch. And number three: this son-of-a-bitch loves you. I am willing to do anything as long as I can have you. I love you, Sara Sidle."

He kissed her then, leaning forward to gently press his lips to hers. Sara, however, wasn't satisfied. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Before things could really get heated, Grissom broke their kiss and rested his forehead on hers. Sara whined softly in frustration, making him chuckle.

"Miss Sidle, I am at least taking you out on a proper date before I make love to you. We're both exhausted anyways. Let me take you home." In response, Sara hugged him closer to her again and pulled him down so that they were lying side-by-side on his couch. With her face nestled in his neck and his arms around her shoulders, they slept.

**A/N 3**: It's up to you guys whether you want an epilogue about the morning after. Press that little purple button and let me know your opinion (both in general and about the epilogue).


	3. Epilogue

Title: Cold As You, Epilogue

**Author: **butterflied4life

**Rating: **Teen

**Pairing: **Grissom and Sara, of course

**Spoilers:** None

**Summary: **My take on a song/karaoke fic using the song 'Cold as You' by Taylor Swift. Somewhat angsty, but a satisfying ending, I promise!

**Disclaimer: **Yep, I own CSI, just like I'm married to Zac Efron. Not.

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**A/N: **Well, y'all wanted an epilogue, so I'm happy to oblige.

**A/N 2: **Many, many thanks to all my reviewers. You guys don't know how thrilling it is to get an e-mail saying you've received a review unless you're an author. I know, the author asks you to review, and you think, 'Well, plenty of other people will.' But the fact is, not that many other people review. So _your _review is invaluable.

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Sara slowly floated into consciousness, cracking her eyes open to see light pouring in through a window. Then she remembered she didn't have a window in her bedroom and there weren't blue sheets on her bed. It was also in this same moment she noticed her back was pressing against someone else's body, and that someone else's arm was around her waist. A very special someone else. She smiled at the memory of the night before.

She, Sara Sidle, had kissed Gil Grissom, and he had kissed her back. Heaven.

Realizing he must have carried her to his bed sometime during the night, she slowly moved her hand over Grissom's arm, letting the feeling of love and security wash over her.

Not realizing he was awake, she nearly jumped when his breath hit her neck as he said, "Good morning."

Sara flipped over so that she was now facing him. "Yes, it is a _very _good morning," she replied. He smiled.

Grissom kissed her lightly before he extricated his arm from beneath her waist as he sat up. "I'm going to go make some breakfast for us, and then we can run you by your place so that you can get a change of clothes for work. Actually, you'll probably need to dry-clean your shirt…"

Sara looked down at her severely wrinkled blouse. "Oh no, I can never wash this." At Grissom's quizzical look, she added with a grin, "It smells like you. Now about that date…"

**A/N 3:** Review much loved!


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